Luyện nghe bài hát English Fire

Seven brides me seven sins
Seven seas for me
From gates to Rlyeh
Abydos to

And Sirens sing stern
But now I cease to
For I to return to woodland ferns
Herne and his wild huntress lay

Now the are turning, spurning the darkness
The great of distinguished tours
Are but stills in time to the thrill Im once more
Heading to the of her English shores

The wind bickered in Satanic sails
Eyes in deep thickets of trees
And mists clung tight in to vales
Brigantia spoke her soul to me

From Imbolg to
to Samhain feasts
I her lament as seasons blent
Together a beast

Now the are turning churning in darkness
The celebrations of extinguished
Are but stills in to the chill that climbs once more
Dreading the red on her English shores

Gone are the rustic of my youth
winters cut their sacred throats
With scythes that reap worldwide
Pitch black and forest smoke

And the hosts that I saw
of carrion law
Drove the ghosts of my
To rove and once more

One of her from the vast far flung
home to rebuild
The rampant of the Leonine
Risen pestilent fields

Now the tidal are burning in darkness
The salvation of her sword
Shalt like wine from the hills to chines that pour
her beheadings on these English shores

For the hosts that I saw
of carrion law
Drove the ghosts of my
To rove and rally once

This is a for England
its reticent doze
This is a waking for
hope and glory are regarded as foes